


I'll Make It Up To You

by irkenfens



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Breakup, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irkenfens/pseuds/irkenfens
Summary: Jim's risked his life one too many times.





	1. Chapter 1

Shit hit the fan almost from the get-go. 

The transporter had malfunctioned, and instead of beaming down into the forest and hiking in, Uhura had accidentally landed right in the middle of the temple, scaring the crap out of the natives. So, they’d had to resort to the backup plan immediately: Bones and Chekov stole the sacred scroll and high tailed it out of there as fast as they could, leading the Nibirans away from the volcano. Jim was disappointed; usually it took them at least five minutes for the original plan to go haywire. This had to be some kind of record. 

But that wasn’t all. Due to some unforeseen seismic activity, the volcano’s eruption was proceeding much quicker than the team had predicted. Which meant that Spock was currently in the heart of an exploding volcano. 

“Captain! The engines are overheating!” Sulu cried over the din of the shuttle’s alarms. “I can’t hold this position much longer!”

“Spock, I’m pulling you back up, there’s not enough time!” Jim yelled into his earpiece, reaching across the controls towards the winch that held Spock’s tether. 

“I strongly object, Captain,” Spock stated calmly, his voice crackling over their faltering connection. Jesus Christ, how could he be calm at a time like this? Jim felt like his nerves were practically burning with a deadly combination of adrenaline, fear, and excitement. 

“I am presently inputting the necessary passwords into the freeze catalyst. In forty-three seconds my task will be complete and I may be pulled safely back up to the shuttle. If I do not do so, this planet will die.”

“We don’t have forty-three seconds!” shouted Sulu, who was scrambling across the controls, frantically pulling levers. 

“Jim, you must leave me behind. I do not-” Spock’s comm cut out abruptly, and Jim was thrown out of his seat as the shuttle gave a gut wrenching jerk. 

“Spock!” Jim screamed. “Sulu! What happened?”

“His tether snapped, sir!” Sulu bellowed, and indeed, Jim glanced over at the winch, which now fell slack to the floor of the bucking craft. “We need to leave, immediately!”

Jim scrambled to his feet. “Lieutenant, we are not leaving Commander Spock in that volcano to die,” he yelled, racing into the gear room. He slammed his back against the wall, into the automatic outfitter, and felt a click as a heat proof suit snapped over his body. He grabbed a personal transport device from the wall and flipped open the screen on his suit’s forearm. On it, he could just barely make out a blue dot, signaling the catalyst’s (and Spock’s) location. He stood poised over the vent in the gear room floor, legs spread apart, chin up, eyes blazing. 

“Sulu!” Jim shouted. “As soon as I am clear of this vessel you are to vacate the premise immediately, do you understand? I will go down, retrieve Commander Spock, and beam us aboard the Enterprise. Are we clear?”

Sulu turned around with a look of open mouthed horror. “Jim! Those transporters are still experimental! They barely work for one person! It won’t-”

“Lieutenant! This is an order!” Jim roared.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“It’ll work. I promise. I’ll rendez-vous with you in the transporter room back aboard the ship,” said Jim, and he punched the button on his display to open the vent below him.

Instantly, he was free falling, no tether to guide him, plummeting straight towards the blue dot on his screen. He couldn’t tell if Sulu was obeying his orders and fleeing, he couldn’t see anything through the thick cloud of volcanic ash. He couldn’t know if he really was falling towards the blue dot, or perhaps straight into the lava itself. He was blind to the world around him, and all he could do was stare at his display and trust it knew where it was taking him. He could feel his heart beating, thrumming, pulsing with a single rhythm, as it had every second of every day since he first saw him stand up in that crowded auditorium: Sp-ock. Sp-ock. Sp-ock. 

Suddenly, the ash was gone, and Jim had a clear view of the caldera spread out below him. Directly underneath, he could make out a dim blue glow, reflected off the surface of a tiny rock precipice, marooned among the splashing, roiling sea of magma. He thought he saw a figure kneeling next to it, although he wasn’t sure. Everything was moving too fast and the lava was quickly approaching and sparks flew past his vision and he couldn’t see where he was going until the last second. In the nick of time, Jim punched a button on his suit and air shot out of the bottoms of his boots, slowing his descent just enough so that his subsequent crash landing wasn’t lethal, just painful. 

Jim rolled to his knees and looked up to see Spock’s look of complete shock, his eyebrows so high on his forehead they disappeared past his hairline, his mouth hanging wide open. Despite the gravity of the situation, the life or death circumstances they found themselves in, Jim couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the comical expression on his boyfriend’s face. 

“Hey, honey,” Jim wheezed, bent over from his painful impact and from laughter. “I thought… I thought I’d drop in, see what you’re up to.” 

“Jim,” Spock admonished. He’d recovered somewhat, but his eyebrows were still nowhere to be seen. “This is possibly the worst course of action you could have taken, as now not only I will die, but you as well. The chances of our survival-”

“I know, I know, probably zero. But I brought you a present,” Jim said, unhooking the personal transport device from his back. “How much time do we have?”

“Seven seconds.”

“You can still activate the freeze catalyst remotely?”

Spock nodded.

“Alright, here goes nothin’!” Jim shouted, powering up the transporter. He locked eyes with Spock, who grabbed Jim’s arm and nodded again, fingers poised over his suit’s arm display. Still with gazes locked, they each punched their buttons at the exact same instant, the moment when all hell broke loose. The two disappeared in a golden flash as the world around them erupted into a storm of ice and fire.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim could tell Spock was angry with him the moment after they landed in the transporter room, crashing hard onto their stomachs, the wind knocked out of their lungs. Spock released Jim’s arm as if it was burning him and twisted away, trying to draw breath.

As the pair struggled to sit up and breathe, Scotty slumped against the transport controls and wiped his brow with his sleeve.

“I tell ya,” he groaned. “You two bastards are lucky t’ be alive.”

Sulu burst into the room, Uhura hot on his heels.

“Jim!” Sulu cried, rushing to his captain’s side. “You complete idiot! I can't believe you made me leave you in that volcano,” he exclaimed, helping him to his feet. “That was the hardest fucking order I’ve ever had to obey. You know that, right!?”

Jim grinned, still a little short of breath. “I know, Hikaru. And I’m sorry. But hey, we made it out, didn’t we? Told ya we’d rendez-vous in the transporter room,” he said, slinging his arm around Sulu’s shoulders. 

Sulu pushed his arm off, laughing playfully, so Jim knew he wasn’t really mad. “I swear, Jim. You have a death wish,” he sighed, moving across the transporter pad to Scotty. “A death wish!”

Jim chuckled, turning his attention towards the other side of the pad. Spock was already standing, and Uhura was brushing off his suit, her back to Jim. She leaned in and whispered something to Spock, whose dark eyes instantly flitted up to Jim. His mouth was drawn in a hard line, and his cheeks were flushed green. He murmured something back, and Jim, under the pretense of removing his suit, moved closer, straining to hear them. Uhura ran her hand down Spock’s arm and reached up to kiss his cheek, her long ponytail swaying with her movements. Spock looked aside, his expression unreadable. Uhura moved away from him then, crossing the pad to join Sulu, who was now in discussion with Scotty. As she passed Jim, she paused and gave him a pointed look, one that set his nerves jangling and made his blood run cold.

Jim turned away and began to unlatch his breastplate, worried. He could feel his chest start to tighten, as if his ribs were shrinking. He sat down on the top step of the transport pad, hard. The room was starting to spin. He wasn’t troubled by Spock and Uhura’s kiss, but by their expressions. In fact, their kiss was the one thing about their exchange that hadn’t set him on edge. Uhura had been covering for them for three months, pretending to date Spock so no one would suspect anything. Uhura was the logical choice to help them. She and Spock had dated before, briefly, but they soon realized they weren’t meant to be together and parted as good friends. She was the only one who knew: Jim hadn’t even told Bones about his relationship with Spock.

It was a big deal, for senior officers to engage in a romantic relationship. Before they made it official, Spock wanted to be sure that they weren’t rushing into anything, weren’t making a mistake. Jim went along with it; he knew Spock was right about taking it slow. But he’d had a huge crush on Spock the instant he first laid eyes on him, and he had fallen more and more in love with his first officer every day they spent together. Jim couldn’t wait to make their relationship public, but he respected Spock’s boundaries and refused to push him before he was ready.

Jim focused on removing his boots, one at a time. The simple act was helping to calm him down, and his dizziness abated. He knew Spock was angry with him for going down into the volcano; Spock hated it when Jim put himself in danger for his sake. He hadn’t known exactly how angry until he saw Uhura’s face: her expression had been heavy, drawn, saddened. He gulped, wondering what Spock could have said to her in the few seconds they’d been whispering to make her give him a look like that.

Jim saw Spock stand, his arms full, and enter the gear room. Jim quickly picked up his own suit and followed. He stood in the doorway, watching Spock put his boots back on the rack. 

“Spock,” Jim whispered softly. Spock stiffened, the only sign that he’d heard Jim. He slammed the rest of his gear into place, and turned to leave the room. 

Jim still stood in the doorway, blocking the exit. Spock tried to slide past him, but Jim held out a hand to stop him. 

“Spock, I-” Jim reached out for Spock’s hand, about to ask him what was wrong, but gasped when their skin touched. Normally, whenever they brushed hands, Jim could feel Spock’s emotions, swirling around in his mind in a happy jumble: his energetic curiosity, his subtle humor, his bright affection for Jim, all usually hidden under his Vulcan facade. This time, however, Jim felt a different set of emotions tumble through their joined hands, and he felt each one like a stab wound: fear, worry, pain, anger. 

Spock jerked his hand back with wide eyes, breathing in sharply through his nose. His eyebrows were furrowed together, and his expression twisted in an astonished sort of anger.

“Jim,” he hissed, his voice low and biting. Jim had never heard him sound this way before, and it made him all the more anxious.

“I do not wish to have this discussion now. I- I cannot- I can’t do this now, Jim,” Spock whispered, his voice shaking. Jim had never seen him lose emotional control like this, not counting that fistfight, nearly a year ago. Spock bolted past him and out of the gear room, and Jim could hear the automatic doors slide open and shut as Spock hurried out of the transporter room.

Jim swore and dashed around the room, shoving his gear wherever it would fit. His hands were shaking. He didn’t hear any more voices from the transporter room, and he assumed Uhura, Scotty, and Sulu had left. He rushed back through the doorway and ran smack into Uhura, nearly knocking her over. 

“I’m so sorry, Nyota,” Jim exclaimed, reaching out to steady her. “It’s just- Spock- he ran out- which way did he go?” Jim turned away from her, gasping, making a move towards the door.

“Jim- Jim stop,” Uhura said, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him back. “Let him go! Jesus Christ, give him a minute. He’s not okay, he needs a second-”

“No!” Jim cried, pulling away from her. “I can’t let him go- I need to make sure he’s okay-”

Uhura moved in front of him, placing both of her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. “Jim. Let him go,” she said, making eye contact with him. 

Jim stared down at her, his heart beating faster every second. He could feel himself panicking, but he couldn’t seem slow his breathing. He knew she was right, he knew rushing after Spock would make everything worse, especially with the Vulcan’s emotions so close to the surface. But he couldn’t leave his t’hy’la, not when something was so wrong, he had to fix it, whatever he had done-

Jim grabbed Uhura’s hands and spun her, moving towards the door. “Nyota, I can’t,” he said frantically, nearly tripping over his own feet. He couldn't draw in a breath. “I have to make sure he’s okay,” he repeated, feeling faint. With that, he disappeared into the hallway, Uhura calling after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Next chapter is up as well :) Fair warning, though: shit gets really intense, really fast. Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

“Spock!” Jim called, bolting out of the transporter room just in time to see Spock turn a corner sharply. Jim dashed after him, the Vulcan’s strides much longer than his own. 

“Spock! Spock, wait,” cried Jim, reaching to grab his hand again. Spock stiffened, and stopped so abruptly Jim nearly ran into his back. Spock turned slowly, pointedly gazing down at his hand, limp and awkward in Jim’s grasp. This time, Jim couldn’t feel any emotions through their contact, meaning Spock had forced his mental wards up. Jim let go, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Yes, captain?” The ice in Spock’s voice took Jim by surprise, and he took an involuntary step back. His temperament couldn’t have been any more different than it had been moments ago in the gear room.

“How may I be of assistance?” Spock’s mouth was drawn in a thin line, and his eyes contained none of their usual warmth, their quiet humor, their serene calm. In fact, Jim hadn’t seen Spock look at him with that much anger in his expression since their fistfight on the bridge, when Jim had baited him into an emotional reaction after Amanda’s death and Vulcan’s destruction.

Jim could feel the anxiety rising in his chest again, rearing its ugly head like a snake. He forced it down, trying to focus on the man in front of him.

“Spock,” Jim said, his eyebrows knitting together with worry. “Can… can we talk? Somewhere private?”

Spock gave him another stony glare, but turned towards a door set in the wall nearby and pressed his palm to the scanner. Dimly, Jim realized they were outside Spock’s quarters. 

Spock stood off to the side as the door glided open, and gestured stiffly for Jim to enter. He did, and felt himself relax a fraction. Some of his best memories had taken place in this cabin. His and Spock’s first kiss, the first time they had mind melded, and other, more casual things: nights spent playing chess, working on paperwork together quietly, just enjoying each others’ company. 

Jim walked over to the desk, picking up a portrait Spock had framed: the two of them, standing on the bridge their first day of command. They were stiff and awkward in their dress uniforms, standing tall and straight backed. Jim smiled, not because it was a good photo, but because he fondly remembered the moment it was taken. The photographer insisted on posing them right next to each to each other, so close they were almost touching. Jim had been terrified to stand so close to Spock, he had wanted more than anything to lean a little to the right, turn his head just so, and give his first officer a kiss on the cheek. Jim had confessed the story to Spock one night, who had found it equally amusing and adorable. 

Jim was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of the door swishing shut, loud in the cabin’s still calm. He set the photo down gently, straightening it with a loving touch. He could feel Spock’s expectant gaze on his back, but he didn’t turn, instead running his fingers lightly over their faces, pressed under the glass. He trailed his fingertip over the point of Spock’s ear, the curve of his slender shoulder, feeling the tension in the room mounting and growing like a living thing.

Spock was the one to finally break the silence, clearing his throat definitively. His tone was aloof and cool, completely devoid of emotion.

“I believe you were the one to request this audience, Captain. How may I serve you?”

Jim turned, shoving his hands in his pockets to quell their shaking. 

“Don’t do this, Spock. This isn’t anything formal, and you know it. You’re angry at me. Shouldn’t we, you know, talk about that?”

Spock shifted, a movement Jim knew was a sure sign that he was anxious. He was staring very intently at the floor. 

“Anger is an emotion,” he said softly. “Vulcans are not emotional beings.”

At that, Jim rolled his eyes, crossing the room in two quick bounds and stopping just in front of Spock, who was still hovering near the door. He reached out and lightly placed his hand on his boyfriend’s arm, smoothly running a thumb over his bicep. 

“Don’t give me that crap,” Jim said gently. “Honey. What’s really going on?” 

Spock let out a breath Jim hadn’t realized he was holding and moved away from Jim’s touch, crossing the room to perch on the edge of the desk. Jim followed him warily, knowing Spock needed his space but unable to stop himself from moving closer. Spock’s hands were balled into fists at his sides, and Jim was startled to notice it wasn’t stopping them from trembling. 

“You should not have gone down to retrieve me,” he said, staring at the floor. “You should have left me.”

“I couldn’t let you die, Spock!” Jim exclaimed. He leaned in close, forcing Spock to meet his gaze. “You should know me well enough to know that I could never leave you behind like that!”

“Maybe you should have. Captain,” Spock said shortly, returning to his professional facade and answering Jim’s fierce glare with one of his own. “It was the logical action on more than one account. While the optimal outcome would have no casualties, one death is far preferable to two-” 

“Spock! This isn’t about the ‘optimal number of casualties’, and you know it!” Jim stood on his tiptoes, bringing his eyes level with Spock’s. It was something he rarely did, only when he needed to press his point upon his first officer. 

Suddenly Jim turned, pacing back and forth across the small cabin. Spock watched him, warily, still wearing that unfamiliar, tight-lipped expression that nearly broke Jim’s heart. 

Jim stopped and gazed at him, fierce and hard, for a long moment. “It would kill me if you died,” he said finally. “It would kill me if you died because of an order I gave. I would never forgive myself if I fled when I could have done something to save you.”

Spock’s expression softened, saddened. “Likewise, Jim,” he said slowly, wringing his hands. He looked down, and Jim could hear him struggling to contain the emotion in his voice. “I cannot bear that you put yourself in danger so often. I could not bear it if you died while trying to save me.”

A lump formed in Jim’s throat, and he furiously blinked back tears. He moved forward towards Spock, gently taking hold of his hands and weaving their fingers together.

“Then let’s agree never to jump into a volcano again,” he said, smiling softly, tilting his face up towards Spock’s. “I think we can handle that.”

But Spock gently extricated his fingers from Jim’s and moved away from him. Jim’s lungs felt as if they were contracting again, like someone was squeezing him too tight. The room seemed to drop ten degrees in the matter of a second.

“Honey… what’s wrong?” he said softly. 

Spock didn’t answer immediately, but tilted his head away so that his face was in profile, as if he couldn’t bear to look at Jim. His eyes were closed, his dark lashes so long they brushed the thin skin underneath his eyes. A light green flush colored his high cheekbones. Gazing at him, Jim’s heart swelled to an ache that was almost painful.

Spock swallowed, the only indication that he was nervous. The rest of his body was still and proper as ever, his hands held trimly behind his back, his posture perfect. He still wasn’t looking at Jim.

“I wish to end our romantic and physical relationship.”

Jim hitched in a breath, feeling as though the ship had suddenly started flying upside down. Even though he had quickly learned not to use phrases like upside down or right side up in space. Even though direction had no meaning and nothing, not even the gravity that kept his feet anchored to the ground, was real. He felt as though the floor had suddenly winked out of existence and he was falling, although how could he fall when the word down had no meaning? 

If Jim was a betting man, if he could have been sure of any one thing in his life, it would have been that he and Spock were always in sync, could always tell the other’s emotions, thoughts, moods with just a glance. But now he wasn’t sure what he’d bet on. He’d never felt more disconnected from Spock, more out of tune with all that he’d come to know. After they’d gotten over their initial hurdles, Jim had felt like his relationship with Spock was as easy as breathing, no matter what form it took. If they were two officers on the bridge, they knew how to command their crew efficiently and effortlessly. If they were two friends, they knew how to comfort and console one another, how to make each other happy. And if they were two lovers… well. 

Jim blinked, staring, disbelieving, at Spock’s face. 

“I… you what?” He gasped. Spock said nothing, his face still turned towards the floor.

Again, the panic was setting in, and Jim could barely breathe. He stumbled forward, tripping over his own feet. He grabbed Spock’s hands, grabbed his shoulders, forced their bodies together as if that could make them whole again. 

But Spock pulled away, and as he did, he tore Jim’s heart in two.

Jim stood, alone, in the middle of the room, feeling his eyes begin to fill with tears. Spock finally looked up, his gaze weighed down with sadness. Jim didn’t dare move, sure that if he took even one step forward he’d fall to the ground, even though he ached to wrap his arms around Spock’s neck and never let go.

“Spock, Spock. I don’t understand,” Jim pleaded, the tears threatening to spill. “What… what happened? I thought- I don’t- Spock-” he choked, unable to force the words past his lips. 

Spock didn’t move to comfort him, to lay a reassuring hand on his cheek, although he looked as though he’d like nothing more.

“Jim, we nearly died today. You nearly died today. I do not think you understand the gravity of the situations you face. You are so close to death, so often. I cannot bear to be the reason you put yourself in danger. I cannot continue to endorse your behavior. I urge you to be more rational, to give a thought for your own safety. Please, Jim. If you will not do so for yourself, do so for me.”

Jim stared at Spock, his t’hy’la’s dark eyes wide and brimming with emotion.

He exploded.

“You think that if we break up, I won’t try to save you? That I’ll stop caring about you?” Jim raged, gesturing wildly. “Even if we weren’t dating, even if I don’t feel what I do for you, you’re still my best friend. Fuck, it’s more than that! We’re bonded, aren’t we? We’re literally fucking soul mates! You think I’d stop at anything to keep you safe? This is the only thing I won’t do for you, Spock. I won’t sit back and watch you die!” he shouted. 

The only way to keep the tears at bay was to scream, to rage, to tear. To make Spock feel the pain he felt, the heartbreak that was looming eminent on the horizon.

Of course, Spock knew this, and his answering tone, careful, understanding, logical, but heavy with grief, made it all a thousand times worse. 

“Then this is what I ask. If you will not keep yourself safe for me, then do so for the crew, for the four hundred and seventeen others on board the Enterprise. What will happen to them if their captain dies? What will happen to them if both their commanding officers die? They look up to you, Jim. They need you to be their captain, and to be responsible. They need you to keep them safe, and you cannot do so if you do not do the same for yourself.” Spock spoke with surety, with methodical precision, struggling in vain to conceal the emotion from his voice.

Jim took a deep breath, tugging his fingers through his hair so hard it hurt. When he spoke next, he did so with all the grace, all the command, all the captain’s authority he could muster. 

“I do, and always will do, my best to make sure the safely of our crew is of the utmost priority. But you’re different, Spock. You’re not just part of the crew. You’re not just my first officer. You’re so much more.”

It was Spock’s turn to speak with his voice choked with emotion, to step away from Jim and lean against the edge of the desk as if he could no longer support his own weight. 

“Jim, I- No. I cannot control my emotions, the humanity is overpowering. I have arrived at this decision logically, and it is the only way to keep you safe, to keep you alive. You refuse, you downright refuse, to listen to yourself!” Spock shouted, all his supreme emotional control gone.

“Do you not realize, that everything you say about what would happen to you if I died, the same would occur to me if something fatal happened to you! And I would have to assume the captaincy, I would have to pretend as if the guilt and the sadness and the grief were not eating away at me from the inside!” He gasped, for he had spoken so fast he hadn’t drawn breath. 

When he spoke again, it was with an unimaginable sadness, the grief in his voice weighing down every word, each syllable battering Jim’s eardrums.

“You can hate me, Jim, if that makes it easier. In fact, I hope you do, because I hate myself for causing you this pain. But I cannot deny that this is the only course of action in which we both will live.”

Spock turned to go, his hand outstretched towards the door. Through his shock, his anguish, Jim found it in himself to move forwards, using all his strength to stop Spock from leaving. He grabbed Spock’s shoulders, spinning him around until they were face to face. 

“Please, Spock. Please don’t do this,” he whispered in his ear, holding Spock so tight Jim thought he would break him. He pulled back, staring into his dark eyes. Jim didn’t need the touch of their skin to tell him Spock’s emotions, for his t’hy’la’s gaze reflected Jim’s own sadness, his own pain, his own heartbreak. 

“I love you,” Jim whispered, his final, most irrational, most illogical, most emotional reason, the only argument he had left to convince Spock to stay. “And I’ll make it up to you.” 

He knew all was lost the instant a tear traced its way down Spock’s cheek. 

“Jim,” Spock murmured, his voice low and soft with emotion. Spock brushed a curl off of Jim’s forehead, a loving gesture that was like the final twist of a knife in his chest. 

“Oh, Jim. I find that I love you too. But it does not make a difference.”

Spock pressed a final, shattering kiss to Jim’s lips, and in it, Jim tasted all that he’d lost. The next instant, Spock’s arms were no longer around him, the door swishing open and closed behind him. With nothing left to hold him up, Jim fell, his knees hitting the floor. He didn’t feel it, for the pain in his heart was too great. He knelt there, on the floor of Spock’s cabin, unseeing, unfeeling, until Uhura found him the next morning. 

She just looked at him, her hand flying to cover her mouth. She took in the long face and the puffy eyes. He'd barely moved a muscle. She sunk to her knees in front of him and hugged him tightly. 

"I'm sorry, Jim," she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

And Jim's broken heart crumbled into pieces with the finality of that statement, with the knowledge that his world spun on a new axis. 

A new world, a horrible, grey, evil, awful, dark world-

One without Spock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Sorry that it was so sad, but I couldn't help it!! Special thanks to my amazing betas, Audrey and Ali :) This piece wouldn't be what is is without you!! Follow them on tumblr @audjolras and @flamingbluepanda, or me @jimothyandspocko! Lastly, if anyone feels like this really and truly needs a happy ending, I'm not opposed to going back and adding an epilogue where they get back together. However, for now, I like that it ends on an angsty, heartbroken note. Again, thank you for much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This work and the title are inspired by the Imagine Dragons song "I'll Make It Up To You", and it made me think of Spirk the first minute I heard it. I hope you enjoyed!


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